Holmes says, “Get that flashing thing out of my face. I’m trying to sleep.”
. . . and to my mother: I miss you, mom. I wish you could sit down and talk with me; I wish you’d met your grandsons and your great granddaughter; I wish you could enjoy the dogs on a beautiful winter afternoon; I wish you’d had the chance to grow old. My mother died on January 17, 1964 when she was 39 years old and I was 19 — a lot has happened in the last 46 years.